


some and now none of you

by thephanlock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Destiel - Freeform, Episode Fix-it, Episode Related, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, One Shot, POV Third Person, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Present Tense, Spoilers for Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Temporary Character Death, amara is only mentioned briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 09:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11101668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thephanlock/pseuds/thephanlock
Summary: "I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you."-The Night We Met, Lord Huron.





	some and now none of you

**Author's Note:**

> because i refuse to acknowledge the fact that they would kill off three of the longest-running characters in the span of ten minutes. also, castiel and dean winchester deserve to be happy.
> 
> also also, i love the 13 reasons why soundtrack.

**some and now none of you**

 

_“I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.”_

_-The Night We Met,_ Lord Huron.

 

He doesn’t remember when he fell to his knees. But somehow, he finds himself there beside Castiel, his knees aching as stones press into them. Though, he can’t find it within himself to care. As the seconds tick by, the pain somehow develops into nothing, into numbness.

He doesn’t remember when the prickling of unshed tears became a feeling he could call familiar but looking at Cas, laying there motionless with blackened wings scorched into the floor, he remembers the feeling too well - though, doesn’t welcome it.

He had always wished he could see Castiel’s wings again. Something about them had been beautiful, a remarkable sight of shining light and inner strength that Dean had always found stunning. Yet now, as he looks down at the black marks seared onto the concrete, the sight makes him feel sick to his stomach.

His hands reach out against his will, reaching out towards the angel lay before him, eyes closed and chest unmoving, but before his fingers touch him, Dean stops himself. And it takes everything in him not to break down right then and there.

Not realising he had left, Dean looks over his shoulder to find an empty space where Sam had been stood. Only then does he remember the chaos ensuing inside the building. He should be leaping to his feet, rushing inside to help his brother and yet, his body is frozen, his brain feeling disconnected from his body, as though he’s watching someone else go through what he is in fact enduring.

For a second, Dean considers killing himself to meet a reaper, begging them to bring Cas back at any cost, to swap their fates, _anything._ But, knowing his luck, it would be another reaper sick and tired of the Winchesters’ antics who couldn’t wait to wash their hands of him, sending him on his way to Heaven or Hell.

So, that’s out of the question.

Before he has chance to talk himself out of it, Dean’s hands are clasped together, the grip so tight his knuckles are white. He’s certain there will be bruises tomorrow from where his fingertips grip his hands.

“Chuck, I don’t know what I’m doing. But I’m begging you, man. I need him, I need him back. It’s a lot to ask I know but--”

“Dean, how’s it hangin’?” He says, interrupting before Dean can ramble anymore and when Dean turns around, he sees Chuck stood behind him. And he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt. A freaking Hawaiian shirt, buttoned up most of the way with flowers dancing across the fabric.

Of _course,_ he is.

“Stupid question, sorry but look, uh, I promised myself last time Castiel died and I had to resurrect him for you that that would be it, so,” Chuck says, his voice trailing off at the end as though he doesn't really know what to say. Dean opens his mouth to reply but the words are stuck at the back of his throat and it's so difficult to speak all of a sudden, so he closes it again, uncharacteristically quiet.

“One more time couldn't hurt, right?” Another voice bursts into the conversation in Dean’s place.

“Sam,” Dean rasps, a feeling of relief washing over him that he's not alone anymore, that someone else can do the talking.

“After all Cas has done for us, for you, for _Earth?_ If all the other times you resurrected him were for us, what about everything _he's_ done?” Sam argues and there's a passion to his voice that Dean hasn't heard in a while. For a moment, all thoughts of what's going on inside the building behind him flood back but he still can't find it within himself to care much. Not right now.

“Guys, you've got to understand that death is _supposed_ to be permanent, you know? I can't keep bringing back all your friends _but,”_ Chuck pauses, clearly mulling it all over in his head, trying to dissect the conundrum and choose between integrity and feelings. “Castiel has always been one of my favourite angels, even though I'm not supposed to have favourites. And the way he died,” He trails off again, unable to finish his sentence.

“I didn't come here just because you prayed Dean,” He continues, turning to face the older of the Winchesters now, his attention fully upon him. There’s a pain to his voice that Dean can’t remember hearing before, something sounding close to pity. It makes Dean feel sick. “Amara persuaded me to, said that you need Castiel the most. I think she's right but then, I've always seen what you've been too scared to say.” He says, a teasing undertone to his voice that tells Dean he's definitely wearing a smirk inappropriate for the situation. “So this is the last one. For Castiel. It's a gift. Keep it, this time?”

And with that, Chuck snaps his fingers and he's gone.

But Dean’s thoughts don't dwell on him for long, as Cas’ eyes are already fluttering open. It’s almost like a switch has been flipped and Dean’s in motion again, unfrozen. This time, he doesn't stop himself as he reaches forward, his hands rushing over the fabric of Cas’ trench coat anxiously.

“Cas?” He breathes out, a cocktail of panic and relief latching onto his words. And all of a sudden, all he sees is blue, his piercing eyes staring into Dean’s once more.

So, he’d be damned if he didn't lunge forward and press his lips against Cas’.

His hands are on either side of Cas’ face, pulling him closer and closer, kissing him for the first time like it could be the last time because if there's one thing he's learned in the past ten minutes, it's that it could be. For a moment, Cas doesn't move, frozen still. But then he melts into the kiss and kisses back with just as much intensity.

All the while, Sam tries to avert his gaze, eyes darting around as he looks _anywhere else_ and sends a silent thank you to Chuck, wherever he may have gone.

“I thought I'd lost you, I _need_ you, I thought, son of a _bitch,_ Cas, _”_ Dean rambles once they pull away, words spilling out of his lips before he can stop them. Their foreheads leaning against one another, Cas looks into Dean’s eyes.

“I'm not going anywhere, Dean.” He says and Sam takes that as his cue to step forward gingerly and interrupt.

“Actually, I hate to break up the reunion but we still have things to sort out in there,” He says, pointing his thumb behind him. Dean leans back, scratching his neck awkwardly before standing up, pulling Cas to his feet beside him. By the tone of Sam’s voice, Dean knows he's never going to hear the end of this.

And yet, he couldn't be happier.

“Nice to see you, Sam.” Cas says, nodding towards Sam with a slight smile, a gesture that is mirrored.

“You too, Cas.” He replies, glancing between Dean and Cas, who's hands are still intertwined, and he finds that he's unable to keep a little smile off his lips. It's nice to see the two of them happy for once, the act of dancing around each other finally abandoned. “Now let's go.” He says, leading the way.

Dean follows closely behind, hand still holding Cas’ with no intention of letting go, as he softly murmurs,

“Thanks, Chuck.”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked this. i've been in and out of the supernatural fanbase for a long time now, since around season 7/8 but the latest episode inspired me to write a fix-it because castiel is my favourite character and deserves better than the writers give him.
> 
> follow me on tumblr [here](https://stillsanvers.tumblr.com), where i normally post about tv shows, films and musicals - alongside unhealthy amounts of shipping.


End file.
